Your Turn
by kittykatloren
Summary: She looked very young; though, naïve as she was, she often looked quite young and innocent. This was different, however – this was young and scared – and, he realized suddenly, hopeful and trusting. FE8 Sacred Stones, Rennac/L'arachel oneshot.


**A/N: **Originally written as a giftfic for the fe_exchange community on LJ. For ergoipsofacto, but I figured, everyone can use a little dose of Rennac/L'arachel, right?

**Words: **1624  
**Characters:** Rennac, L'arachel  
**Time: **Anytime  
**Genre:** Humor/Friendship

**Disclaimer: **Everything you recognize belongs to Nintendo, not me.

* * *

"Your turn," he said, looking rather dismal.

L'arachel stared alternately between the beads on the ground in front of them and the battered old cards in her hand. She held them gingerly, as if frightened that their shabbiness would somehow rub off onto her fingers. She bit her lip in a frustrating and endearing pout. "What do I do next?"

"You draw," sighed Rennac, pointing to the deck.

"Oh! Yes!"

She did so. And nothing else. She remained stock-still, her back very straight, blinking questioningly at him.

"Now you place a card on the circle," Rennac said, pointing to a string of cards that outlined a circle he had traced in the dirt. Inside the circle was a jumble of mismatched beads, buttons, and pebbles. "If you can make a set of four of twos through fives, you can take a pebble. If you make sixes through tens, you take a button. If you make jesters through kings, the face cards, you take a bead. Beads are worth the most, see?"

"Why do I have to play a card every turn? Why can't I just keep them in my hand and count to four?"

"Because when cards are on the circle, they're fair game. Mine, yours, you can just take them."

"But that's stealing!"

Her expression was one of the utmost astonishment and disapproval. Rennac wondered if she even knew, when she hired him so long ago, what exactly he was so skilled at – picking locks and pockets – and then he wondered if she even knew _now_. It seemed rather unlikely. She moved through life as if it wasn't really even there; all that existed were her own perceptions of reality, and it seemed to suit her fine. She was oddly charming, Rennac always thought, exasperating and pompous though she could sometimes be.

"It's the rules of the game," he explained. "Go, Princess L'arachel. It's your turn."

She daintily lifted a card and placed it on the left side of the circle. It was a red jester just like the one on Rennac's side of the circle. Rennac couldn't quite suppress a grin, and L'arachel actually noticed, huffing indignantly.

"How dare you laugh at me!" she said.

"Not laughing," said Rennac. "I'm not laughing, I swear! Just – you still don't seem to be getting this game at all - "

With a flourish, he took her jester, paired it with his own, then dropped the black pair he had in his hand. With that, he took a bead to add to his already extensive collection of point-keepers. "I win," he said cheerfully. "There aren't enough points left in the circle for you to win, even if you got every one of them."

She stared down at the remaining objects, pointing and counting and muttering under her breath. Her expression transformed ever so slowly into utter shock and disappointment, and Rennac leapt to his feet, recognizing the warning signs as she began to frown.

"Now, Princess L'arachel, don't get upset now, it's only a game - "

She tossed her remaining cards carelessly into the air and strode over the game, crushing a few beads beneath her boots, and rendering the dust-drawn circle and scoreboard into nothingness. Rather peeved, Rennac chased after her.

"I wouldn't have taken you to be a sore loser," he said dryly when she remained silent. She spared him a single disinterred glance, then marched resolutely onward. "Princess L'arachel, cheer up. Why are you so bothered by a card game? I should say, no one's yet beaten me at cards. I know how to play them right, you know. Nothing to be ashamed of, Princess, losing to me."

Suddenly she stopped short. They were some distance from the main camp now, too far to be heard. She didn't look at him, but instead spoke to her toes. "Whenever I played cards at home, I always won. Everyone always said I was marvelous. I thought I was actually…"

Privately Rennac realized that everyone in Rausten, spoiling their beloved princess, must have always let her win. It was a kindness to her, he supposed – though it also could explain her infuriatingly ridiculous belief that she was the very best at everything she attempted, no matter how anyone else tried to warn her. Like when she believed that the power of light and goodness within her and the divine protection around her would surely protect her from the monsters' claws, and she had charged right into their horde, foolish and headstrong… It always ended up being Rennac, too, who was the only one there to rescue her.

"Well, if you beat them, and I beat you," said Rennac, "just imagine how badly I'd beat them. I could probably do it in one move. It'd be funny to see the looks on their faces, wouldn't it?"

To his relief, she gave a grudging smile, but her tone was still sad. "Perhaps I don't really have any skills, after all… perhaps I will not be helpful in vanquishing this evil…"

"How do you get that idea from losing at a card game?" said Rennac, incredulous.

"Well, I don't know! It just came to me! Like a stroke of glorious inspiration sent from above, except it's – it's - "

"Not quite so glorious," supplied Rennac.

"Exactly!" she exclaimed. "Oh, no, I can't even come up with _words_ - "

"Stop it right there, Princess L'arachel," said Rennac. "You may not know where this is coming from, but I do. You're feeling like you're worthless, aren't you? Like you have no talents, no abilities, and no calling? I've been there. It's not a good place. And trust me – it's not one you have any reason to be in, anyway. Your talents are immeasurable."

She only stared up at him, her mouth slightly open. She looked very young, though, naïve as she was, she often looked quite young and innocent. This was different, however – this was young and scared – and, he realized suddenly, hopeful and trusting. A little flustered at her silent attention, Rennac continued.

"Just, ah, just think about it, Princess. You're always cheerful. I've never known anyone to smile like you – hell, you're smiling even when we're camping in mud, or lost half of our supplies, or losing all our gold – you can go around the camp talking loud and proud about our cause and our… _rightness_. Um, you also… look at that magic you can do! You're the best in the whole army. Saved my life a fair few times, haven't you, with your healing? Just be yourself, L'arachel, don't worry about losing at card games and strokes of – um – ingloriousness. You also… you dance! You're a very good dancer. Do you remember when we danced? I was actually quite impressed."

By now, a smile had stolen over her childlike expression, and the old fervor was back in her sparkling eyes. She clapped her hands together and beamed at him. "Rennac, you're right! You are very right! I am quite extraordinary, and I will be the one to defeat this darkness! I knew it all along. I was only proving again my faith and the power of the good inside me, which helped me overcome even my own darkest moments!"

"That was your darkest moment? And I thought I was the one who helped you overcome it – well, I thank you for your gracious attention," muttered Rennac as she flounced away before he finished speaking, as bouncy and cheerful as ever. He sighed as she went – well, surely it was a good thing she was leaving anyway; her darker mood had been strange, but her usual vivaciousness would just grate on his nerves like it always did, of course.

Suddenly she stopped and turned around. "Well, aren't you coming, Rennac? There is evil to defeat!" she said, and she held out her hand.

Rennac stared at her, at her gentle, ring-studded hand, her glowing pink cheeks – she was no child, that was certain, though she still had all the wonder and excitability of one. It wasn't like he could refuse her, when she looked so hopeful like that. With a resigned smile, he took her hand, which he had never done before in such a context – he had often pulled her out of harm's way, and once danced with her, but never before held her hand just in ease and passing.

"I can't imagine why you would have ever been in that dark place, either! You're a very good dancer," she said brightly as they walked. "For a commoner, of course. You matched my steps almost perfectly! And I'm always amazed how fast you can move when you're fighting – though, with a dagger like that, it's much more savage than what I would prefer, you know – and your skill with those doors! Well, breaking and entering is not something to be proud of, but when it's for the greater good - "

He let her babble on, pleased in spite of himself that he'd managed to cheer her up. Their card game lay forgotten, and Rennac never bothered going back for it – not in the least because L'arachel rarely let him out of her sight after that, anyway. Not that he minded. He even came to appreciate her offhanded compliments, as rare as they were. She seemed to be learning from him. She _was_ rather charming in her own way, after all.


End file.
